


Hands Across The Ocean, Reaching Out For You

by LouisBlue



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, American Louis, Beach House, Beach Sex, Beaches, Blow Jobs, Boat Sex, Bottom Harry, California, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Here we go, I'm always so bad at tagging things I'm sorry, M/M, Sexual Tension, Summer, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, Teenage Harry, Teenage Louis, Top Louis, Vacation, i think thats it for now, im so sorry, imma just tag some random shit, lifeguard louis, lol you see what i did there?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:30:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisBlue/pseuds/LouisBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is at his side in a second, pulling him back up and all of the sudden Harry is very aware of the slow drag of their bare chests against each other.</p><p>He folds his arms back around Louis neck again, clinging onto his thin frame. He feels little pulses of light burn his skin at every point that is touching Louis, even underwater. He feels Louis take in each deep breath and let each one go. He feels Louis’ hands glide across the small of his back. Harry’s eyes slide up Louis’ neck, follow the point of his jaw, the sweep of his cheekbone and finally meets his eyes.</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>He feels like he’s drowning.</p><p>“I’m drowning.”</p><p>And he’s so close, closer than he’s ever been. So close that the shallow breaths leaving Louis’ mouth are warming his wet one. So close.</p><p>“You’re fine.” He hears Louis say and he almost misses it because he’s come closer. He’s impossibly close, yet far enough that their lips don’t connect. Far enough that his body knows, is itching to move closer still, but makes no move to do so. So Louis does it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Across The Ocean, Reaching Out For You

**Author's Note:**

> For DeslovesHazza.
> 
> Des- I hope you enjoy this monster that I have created. Thank you so much for the prompts, you are such a sweetheart and I hope I did this justice for you! x
> 
> Zia - Thank you so much. You are the reason this fic got finished in the first place. You are always willing to help or read a draft when I’m freaking out about nothing at all. You always whip me into shape and it’s just what I need to keep me writing. Thank you for your ideas and your input. This fic would be nothing without you.
> 
> Kenya - Thank you for everything you’ve contributed to this fic! You are always throwing out ideas and letting me know what you think and it’s honestly so helpful to have a second opinion when I can’t make the decision for myself. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Ily.
> 
> Rachel - Thank you for always giving the best advice and coming up with the best resources for me when I come crying to you about my works. It means so much that you would actually take the time to answer my question or offer to help in any way. Even just when you tag me in things on tumblr it makes me so happy. So tysm for being there! You are the greatest!
> 
> Emma, Heather, Amanda, and Mar - Thank you lovelies for being so supportive during this whole journey. I hope you enjoy finally getting to read instead of listening to me complain. (:
> 
> Everyone else- Hello! Welcome to HAOROY. I would like to start of by apologizing for any physical/mental damage this fic might cause due to nautical puns/my ridiculously not funny sense of humor. It's a deep seeded problem that I'm working through. Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and don't forget to send me some love if you like it! xxx V

California. Two weeks at Manhattan Beach California was the plan. Gemma, of course, was ecstatic about beach boys and American weather and Harry's mum was more than pleased that they'd managed to book a house right on whatever "The Strand" meant, but Harry wasn't really interested in which beach house they'd managed to grab. God knows how much it cost...

Not to say Harry didn't love the thought of the beach because he did. The only beach he'd ever been to was Llandudno when he was thirteen, but he couldn't even enjoy it because it was February and his mum had taken them to the rocky side. And it didn't even really count anyways because it's the sea, not the ocean. He and Gemma had discussed it many times. Needless to say, Manhattan Beach sounded pretty promising. Especially after a fourteen-hour flight from Manchester sat next to the largest and loudest man imaginable. 

Fourteen hours, no sleep, popping ears, and broken headphones. 

The only slightly entertaining thing, was that he was sat next to Gemma as well who was letting out a string of hilariously planned out nautical puns that they'd been working on for ages. Loud man, who was on a 'very important business call' did not appreciate it, though, and that made it all the more hysterical. 

As it turns out, their beach "house" is more of a giant concrete box with windows. Harry thinks it's beyond ugly and tells his mother as such. She is not so impressed.

"It's called  _ modern living _ , Harry." She tells him, setting her suitcase down in front of the wall of windows. Yeah, there's an entire wall. Made of windows. Because that is exactly what you need in the lounge.

It is nice, though, he supposes. It's right on the edge of the beach, so Harry guesses the wall-windows are good for something after all. It's almost completely hard wood except for the kitchen which has a very nice off white tile that Harry can appreciate  _ and _ it's completely furnished so that's a plus. Besides the fact that most everything is glass, (the tables, the showers, the railings, the doors,  _ the walls... _ ) he figures the completely white marble Jacuzzi in his bathroom more than makes up for it.

But instead of doting on about his love for the brand new  _ asymmetrical light fixtures _ above the bar, (because really mum?) he decided his time would be better spent trying to tan off his eternal, translucent English glow on the beach. So he grabbed his California travel guide his mum had bought him at the airport, grabbed Gemma by the hand and pulled her out the door. 

As soon as his feet hit the sand he was content. It may be a strange thought that a sixteen-year-old boy had never felt sand between his toes before, Harry thought so too, but he couldn't help that every step and every squish made him feel just a little bit happier.

They spot an open space next to a little blue shack right in front of some volleyball nets and Gemma lays out their blanket hoping to catch a glimpse of some 'beach bods' while Harry pulls out his travel guide to read up on things to do around the beach. 

Manhattan Beach was a lot prettier in person than the pictures Harry'd seen online. He and Gemma were surrounded by volleyball nets and multi-colored beach umbrellas in the spot they'd picked next to the lifeguard hut. To their left was the pier that seemed to go on for miles with light posts all the way down and there was an innumerable amount of people. Laughing, playing, running. Harry wasn't even sure if he'd ever been around so many people.

But the best thing by far had to have been the smell. Harry leaned all the way back so he was lying flat against the blanket, basking in the incredible heat he could feel burning his skin. It stretched the entire length of his body, from his forehead all the way down to his toes. Pushing the sleeves of his jumper up, he took a deep breath in. There really was no way to describe the smell of the ocean.

It was salty. Even from where he was lying in the sand he could smell the salt, it was in the air. It was in the wind with every breeze and it consumed his every inhale, but it wasn't a bad salty smell. It was sort of eternal. It was eternal and it made him wonder if it had always smelled like that. If thousands of years ago, the average cave person wandered to the shore to have a lie down to smell the briny air. If all those years ago, someone was wondering the same thing about the same ocean, squishing their cave toes in the same sand. Thinking about the ocean as an eternal being was sort of comforting. It had been and would always be there, but it was also sort of sad.

The ocean would always be there, but it would never be able to love. It would never be able to hold it's true love or lean in close to give it a kiss. It would have to watch everything around it live and die in an endless circle, just passively observing everything around it bristle with life while it could merely exist. Surrounded by life in a limitless existence.

"What  _ are _ you brooding about over there, H?" He heard his sister ask. And honestly, he probably should stop being so melodramatic if Gemma can tell he pondering existence without even saying anything. 

"M'not brooding, Gemma." He keeps his eyes shut, feeling the heat on the back of his eyelids slowly creep down his face. "I am simply enjoying the experience of being at the beach and honing in on all my senses, obviously." Gemma scoffs at him and he feels her roll over before he hears her gasp.

"What?" He asks, sitting up and immediately gasps himself. 

In front of them, walking by completely soaked from head to toe had to be one of the most gorgeous boys he had ever seen. His hair was brushed off to the side of his head and his sunglasses hid most of his face, but his body...

"I'm not usually one to objectify someone based on looks, but damn that body." Gemma voices out the inner workings of Harry's brain and it's times like these when he's sure they really do have some sort of psychic link.

The boy had a skin tight wetsuit on, water droplets still falling from his hair and rolling all the way down his back. And it's hardly fair. Harry can't not look. He can't tear his eyes away. He tracks the motion of the water running down lower and lower, but gets distracted by the boy bringing his hand up to grab the ribbon attached to his zip. He arches his back showing off what Harry thinks have to be the most incredible curves he's ever seen. On anyone. 

And he's taking off the wetsuit. He's taking it off right in front of Harry and he thinks his jaw has to have hit the ground by now. He watches the boy as he peels the material off of his body, rolling it down his arms and pushing it below his waist and down his legs. He reveals a sickeningly tight pair of red shorts underneath. And if that weren't enough, as he lays the suit over his arm and starts walking again, Harry can just make out the white print written across his _ arse. _

Lifeguard. 

And no, not fair. Not fair at all. The boy takes his glasses off, and maybe Harry's actually drooling or maybe the boy can just feel the heat of his stare because as soon as he looks over in Harry's direction, it's all over. Because if Harry thought the boy's body was nice, his face was even better.

Now that he'd gotten a proper look at the boy's face, there was no doubt in his mind that he was screwed. The shimmery golden hue extended up his neck and into his face where Harry could now see the most beautiful light blue eyes even with the distance between them. They were light and happy and the contrast between his darkened tan skin and the brilliance of his eyes were devastating. 

Harry watches the boy move. The flick of his wrist, the toss of his hair, the sway of his hips. It's almost sort of hypnotic.

"Water you thinking, H. I see that little hamster wheel turning." Gemma asks as she reaches out a hand and musses up his hair. And Harry almost forgot about her completely. He watches as the boy continues to walk to the light blue hut right next to them, not even sparing another glance in their direction. Wow. 

"I'm thinking...I'm thinking I'd like to tackle that box." He plays along. Harry loves a good pun and he can appreciate them in any situation. Even if he's in the process of recovering from watching the fittest boy he's ever seen unknowingly basically do a strip tease right in front of him. On the beach. Harry loves America. 

"Oh no. No way little bro. I saw him first. That's my lifeguard." Harry turns to look at her with his eyebrows raised, trying not to laugh at his sister.

"Well, that's unfortunate Gem. Three quid he's not interested in anything you have to offer." He quips, and this time he can't help but let out a little laugh at the facial expression that pulls out of her. 

"There's no way." Gemma stares after the boy, no doubt the same place Harry stares. The stern. "Well, what will I tell our future children?" She asks, throwing her hands in the air. And he does laugh at that, a short cackle because his sister is a crazy person. 

"You are a crazy person."

As the day progresses, Gemma gets more and more fidgety and more and more interested in the lifeguard. He's set up and even played in a few games of volleyball and Gemma hasn't stopped bugging him about it since. 

"Please, H? Please play with me! I've always wanted to play beach volleyball."

"No. Absolutely not." 

"H..." She drags the sound out as long as possible and grabs Harry's hand to try and pull him toward the occupied nets. With no such luck, though. Because he's obviously too strong. Obviously. 

"It's never happening, Gem. Never. I will not." He lets himself giggle when Gemma finally lets go and harrumphs as she sits back down on the blanket, crossing her arms.

"Harry." She slaps him across the chest, suddenly.

"Ow, what?" He asks, rubbing a hand over the spot.

"Don't look now-" She starts, and of course Harry has to look. Who wouldn't look? He goes to turn his head and- "I said don't look!" Gemma repeats, grabbing harry's face and directing it back toward hers. 

"Well, what am I supposed to  _ not _ be looking at then, Gem?"

"Hot lifeguard, twelve o'clock. He's literally looking over here." And as she lets go of his face, she gives a little nod over in the boy's direction. 

Harry turns his head ever so slightly, just enough to where he can see the boy, but it isn't incredibly obvious. Of course, that's what he was going for. As soon as the boy comes into view, he looks away and maybe Harry wasn't as subtle as he thought. 

"See, H? He obviously can appreciate a womanly physique. Ergo, not gay." And with that, she stands up and trots over to the net. But not before mouthing 'point one for Gemma'. 

Apparently, hot life guard decides to sit this one out, because he sets up the game but after that, he disappears. 

Harry watches Gemma play and every so often when she looks over, he'll give her a little wave. Eventually, he picks his travel guide back up and interestingly enough, finds an entire page on tourist traps. Good to know. 

It doesn't last long, though because as you can imagine, travel guides aren't really that interesting. Harry figures he could probably entertain himself with a travel guide in the land of no mobile service for at least one game of beach volleyball, but Gemma has just started her fourth game and at this point, Harry's pretty sure he'd rather count each individual grain of sand on the beach than read another word. 

Fortunately for him, he feel's Gemma's shadow cast across his face, blocking out the sun.  _ Finally.  _

"Jeez Gem, play long enough? I've been sitting here for a hundred years waiting for you." He says, eyes still shut, feeling a bit too warm in his knitted jumper. 

"Funny and English. What are the chances?" Harry's eyes fly open and he sits straight up. Because that's not Gemma. 

There, in front of him, with his sunglasses pushed up into his damp hair and hand on his hip is the lifeguard from earlier. Eyes bluer than the ocean, smile bigger than the sea. At this point his face is so beautiful, Harry is almost sure he's had a heat stroke or this is some sort of mirage he's dreamed up in his overheated haze. Harry can only blink up at him, void of all charm or wit. He can't even muster up a single pun. And that is rare.

"Mind if I sit?" The boy asks. And this is totally Gemma's fault. She left him in the sun too long. 

Harry shakes his head in what must be agreeance because the boy plops down next to him with a huff, whistle dangling around his neck. 

"I'm Louis." He says, sticking his hand out for Harry to shake. Harry's still not said anything at all to this boy and he feels completely and utterly useless at this point. The least he could do is tell him his name. 

"Harry." Nice. Good job, Harry.

"You didn't want to play?" Louis asks, cocking his head toward the volleyball nets. 

"Trust me, it's better for everyone's safety if I sit out." And he didn't mean it as a joke. He was being one hundred percent honest, but whether Louis is laughing at him or with him, it's the most glorious sound he's ever heard and he never wants it to stop.

"You're funny." Louis chuckles at him again and harry could most definitely get used to being the cause of that. He looks over at Gemma, who's  _ still _ playing volleyball and almost can't contain his laughter at the face she gives him. Like she can't believe who's sitting with him. 

Her look is somewhere between confusion and a glare and Harry just musters up the cutest smile he can, which he knows only makes her more aggravated. Louis follows to where he's looking, and shit, shit no! Don't look at Gemma.

"I bet your girlfriend wishes you would." Is what Harry hears next, and it takes him a good ten seconds to comprehend what just happened. Louis. Girlfriend? Louis thinks Gemma is his girlfriend? 

"No! No no no, that's my sister. Gemma, she's my sister. I don't...no." He fumbles over his words, trying to make anything at all comprehendible come out. 

" _ Oh _ ..." He lets out an awkward laugh, running a hand through his still, just barely damp hair. "Well, that's...okay." Louis clears his throat and Harry feels like, at any moment, he will just spontaneously combust. "How long are you staying, then?"

"Oh, erm, two weeks?" He says, still trying to compose himself because not only is Louis the most attractive boy he's ever met, he's also interested in how long Harry is staying in California. Like he plans to see him after this. "My mum and step-dad were looking into renting long term, but I think they've mostly given up now." He explains because Louis totally asked for his entire life story. Nice.

"Two weeks, huh? Well, best make the most of it then, yeah?" And he's standing up, brushing the sand off of his legs and reaching out a hand to Harry. Harry looks up at Louis, and honestly, if he could bring himself to be poetic in this moment, he would comment on the cast of the sun behind Louis' figure, illuminating him from behind and giving him the softest of glows. 

"What?" Is what decides to come out of his mouth because unfortunately, his mouth and his brain are not connected. And Louis laughs at him. Again. 

"Get up." He prompts, wiggling his hand in front of Harry's face for him to take. "We're going swimming." Harry reaches a tentative hand out and grasps Louis' in his own and everything be damned. Harry's hand completely engulfs Louis'. He's still waiting on that spontaneous combustion. Any moment now.

"Don't you have some lives to guard?" Harry asks because he was almost positive he hadn't just imagined the writing across Louis' arse earlier. That he was sure he remembered. 

Louis grins at him and points off to the left. "You see that sign up there, curly?" He asks, throwing his other hand across Harry's shoulder and positioning him so he's facing the blue hut. Harry reads the  _ 'Lifeguard off duty' _ sign aloud, which has Louis smirking as he pats Harry's head and says, "I knew you were a smart one."

"I don't swim." And he goes to sit back down because what is the first thing you do when the fittest boy in America asks you to hang out? Oh, that's right, say no.

"Of course you do, Harold." Louis replies without missing a beat. "Come along now. Get that sweater off." And he's pulling Harry back up again, not taking no for an answer. "I mean honestly. Who wears swim trunks and a  _ sweater _ to the beach? You do know where you are right?"

He laughs along with Louis because...who wouldn't? Louis has this sort of presence about him that is just so carefree and alive. It's sort of rejuvenating. 

Harry rolls his eyes but takes the jumper off nonetheless. "I meant, I don't know how to swim." And he's not so much ashamed of being a sixteen-year-old boy who doesn't know how to swim as he is of having to admit to Louis that the reason he doesn't want to hang out with him is because he can't.

Louis is not wavered at all, however. He only grips Harry's hand tighter and says, "Don't worry. I won't let you drown."

So he lets Louis lead him out into the water, hand in hand. But not before giving a wave over to where Gemma is still gawking near the volleyball nets. He gives her his best smile and mouths  _ 'point one for Harry' _ .

*

Louis never lets Harry out of his sight and whether it's for lifeguard purposes or whether he actually wants to, he almost always has a hand on Harry's back. Even in the surf. But Harry's not complaining. They spend most of the rest of the day playing in the water like children, splashing and giggling and Harry's never had so much fun with someone in his entire life. 

Eventually, against Harry's will, it starts to get dark and Louis offers to walk him back to the beach house.

"Nice place you got there." Louis says as they reach the three steps leading up to the porch.

"Yeah, it's uh... It's definitely something." He turns around reluctantly to say goodbye to Louis. He feels like a kid who's getting in trouble and is about to get their new toy taken away. 

There's a short pause before Louis speaks up and Louis' glow is back but this time is due to the porch light. "Hey, listen. I had a lot of fun today. Thanks for hanging out."

"Yeah, yeah, me too. I had a lot of fun, too."

Louis smiles at him and they both just sort of stand there waiting for the other to say something. Should he hug Louis? Would that be too awkward? Should he give him a bro handshake? What are the proper procedures in America for the end of a non-first date? 

"Well, I'll see ya." Louis pulls him out of his thoughts, turning to walk back down the steps and all Harry can do is nod. He's such a wimp he can't even say goodbye. He turns too, pulling the door open to step inside.

"Hey, Harry?" He hears Louis say and he's never turned himself around so fast in his entire life.

"Yeah?" Harry pulls the door back open and Louis steps back underneath the porch light. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" It comes out fast like he'd been trying to keep it in and as soon as he opened his mouth, it fell right out. 

And there it is. The spontaneous combustion he was talking about earlier? That was it. 

"That depends."

"Depends? Depends on what?"

"On you."

"Please tell me you're quoting Grease right now." Louis puts his hands together in a mimic prayer.

Harry nods. Louis' laugh is breathy, soft. 

"I knew I liked you. Tomorrow? Noon? Guard shack, I'll find you." He goes to turn again but stops. "Oh, and bring your most revealing bikini."

Harry grins the entire rest of the walk up to his room. He doesn't even pay any attention to his mum, who can't figure out how to work the American remote when she asks how his day was. He's only brought out of his daze when Gemma storms into his room as he's getting his toiletries ready for his shower. By the looks of it, she's already had hers, topped off with a towel wrapped around her head. 

"H, was that the lifeguard I just saw outside our house?" She demands, taking the towel off of her head and throwing it at Harry's face. He doesn't even have it in him to try and dodge or catch it. It bounces right off his head.

He simply nods and says, "His name is Louis." Gemma however does not seem impressed. 

"Are you kidding me? What the hell happened today, Harry?"

Harry just smirks and grabs his own towel. He walks right past Gemma and into the hallway, but stops to turn back and say, 'Wouldn't you like to know' and kicks the door shut behind him.

*

Despite his incredibly tangible jet lag and his incredibly annoying sister, Harry does manage to make it out of the house before noon and down to the lifeguard shack, where he sees Louis. Standing with his back pressed against the powder blue paint of the shack, arms crossed over his chest and staring out at the water. Harry has to take a moment, has to pause. He feels like if he moves another inch, Louis will notice him and the moment will be broken. 

Every time he sees him he gets a little more devastating. The sun is shining directly onto Louis' face and even with his sunglasses on, he still has to squint. 

"Will you come on?" Gemma breaks him out of his trance, pulling on his arm. "I'm ready to meet my ex-husband now."

"Oh my god."

Even with all of the pleading he's done to try and persuade Gemma not to come along, she'd insisted she 'had to see this for herself', so there they both were. Walking to the life guard shack with Gemma's arm linked through his. Because she's such an amazing sister. No really. Amazing. 

They reach Louis a few minutes later and in all honesty, there is nothing better than Louis with a full smile. A real, Louis smile. It's sort of lopsided with little crinkles around his eyes and top teeth meeting bottom lip and he's just so surreal, Harry might actually explode. 

"Gemma, right?" Louis asks, reaching out a hand for her to shake. She does, but she keeps her eyes suspicious. She's excellent at playing the protective older sister. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, likewise."

"Hi, H." He says, walking up to Harry to summon him in for a hug with a somewhat quieter tone than he had before, softer. He says it so close to Harry's face that he can feel the the warm breath fan across his right cheek just before Louis' arms reach out to pull him close.

Harry's suddenly sent into over-drive because Louis, actual real life Louis, is touching him, is hugging him. And he can smell the barely there scent of cologne that's been washed away by the salty water he must have been in this morning, but can still find traces of it the closer Louis gets. 

He see's Gemma's face over Louis' left shoulder pull up into a grimace and if he were anywhere else but in Louis' arms, he would have let out the loudest, throaty laugh he could muster. He settles for closing his eyes and pulling Louis a little bit tighter.

Eventually he has to let Louis go because even though he would be content to lay in Louis' arms forever, he would very much like to know what Louis has planned for today, so he takes a step back and tries not to show how red he must be.

"Well, I guess I'll be off then." Gemma says shaking her head. She gives Harry's arm a playful punch and Louis gives Harry's arm a little  _ pat pat  _ in the same spot a few minutes later. How he's supposed to last an entire day with this boy is beyond him. 

Harry says goodbye to Gemma, and Louis, lovely, lovely little Louis, tells her it was 'very nice to meet her' again. Harry sticks his tongue out at her as he watches her turn back while she walks away. 

"So, what are we doing today, lifeguard?" Harry asks as he turns back to Louis and links their arms together just as he and Gemma had done. Louis snickers at him, but doesn't remove his arm. 

"Well, I've decided you should probably learn how to swim. You know, just as a precautionary measure. We are at the beach."

He should have known. He should have known this day was too good to be true and that meeting Louis was just a gift from the heavens just before he inevitably drowns to death. His sort of last request. 

"Yeah, no, of course. That sounds like so much fun, but actually, I forgot to-" He jokes, unlinking his arm from Louis' and turning to try and run in the other direction. Louis, however, is not fazed in the slightest. He only makes to link his fingers through the spaces between Harry's and pull him back in the other direction.

"Oh, shut up."

*

Louis ends up taking Harry to a sectioned off part of the beach with a bunch of kids flailing about and throwing pool toys at each other. Nice. 

"Okay, you ready?" Louis asks, unwinding his fingers from Harry's and placing a hand on his back. And no, Harry is not ready, not even remotely close to being ready. He also doesn't want Louis to let go of him anytime soon, but that's neither here nor there. 

"Don't worry, I'll turn you into a proper little guppy in no time." Louis assures him because apparently, he can read the hesitation on his face. He follows Louis' finger as points over to a sign the says  _ 'school is in session.'  _ with a picture of a school of fish underneath it. And even in this worked up state he is in where he is sure he will inevitably die, he can appreciate pun. But then it hits him.

"Wait...Are you-?" He starts to ask, because honestly what the fuck? His sentence is cut short, however by a swarm of about four or five waist high kids running in their direction shouting, "LOUIS!" And Louis greets them with open arms and head pats and high fives and if Harry doesn't die from water inhalation, he will most certainly go into cardiac arrest from how stupidly cute Louis is around kids. The gods are just trying to kill him today, honestly. 

Louis turns back to give, who Harry thinks must be the kid's mothers a wave. They're all sat under their own respective beach umbrellas with matching lawn chairs and matching drinks. It's like they do this for a living. 

"Okay, guys." Louis says, addressing the kids and pulling Harry closer. " So, this is Harry. And we're gonna teach him to swim today. Can you say hi to Harry?"

"Hi, Harry." They all yell in his direction. Louis lets out a giggle next to him and he should have fucking known. It's not the gods who are trying to kill Harry, Louis is one of those mermaid sirens who lure sailors in with their beautiful voices and even more beautiful faces and before you know it, you're underwater gasping for air. Harry feels a bit like that right now, like he's gasping for air. Louis can't be real.

A weak, "...Hi." is about all he can muster. Not only is Louis a lifeguard who has the word written across his impeccable arse, but he teaches bloody children how to swim too? Fuck him. 

"Alright curly boy, grab yourself a noodle and get in the water!" Louis grins with an extra pat to Harry's back. He leans down to grab one of the left over noodles and hell if he's not trying to get under Harry's skin. He can't honestly be doing all of this by accident. Harry feels his lungs about to burst.

He reluctantly takes the hot pink pool noodle and trudges his way into the knee-deep water after the rest of the kids, but not before hearing the mums behind him give out some loud cackles at his expense. He hates Louis. 

*

So there he is, on his stomach, holding onto his hot pink pool noodle, and kicking his legs like there's no tomorrow in the shallowest part of the beach with a group of four-year-olds. Every once in awhile during the lesson he'll see Louis look over at him like he's just about to lose it a bust up laughing.

The worst part is that the girl in front of him, Olivia as it's clearly printed on the back of her leopard print swimming vest, keeps splashing him in the face with every kick of her legs. And he can't even move out of the way because every time he makes to get up from his position on his stomach, Louis scolds him for being a 'slacker'. This is not how he saw this day going. 

Louis makes his way around to each child telling them to kick harder or keep their legs straighter and by the time he gets to Harry, he's ready to get out of the water and walk all the way back to Cheshire. 

"Looking good, Harry." Louis says, a smirk evident in the tone of his voice. Harry doesn't even need to turn around to see the smug look on his face. 

"You just need to loosen up those legs a bit." He says as he runs a single finger down the back of Harry's leg. He is most definitely doing this on purpose, on his knees next to Harry in the water, finger making it's way back up Harry's right leg. 

"I hate you." He says because he's afraid to say anything else. Louis snickers and leans the entire top half of his body over so he's positioned directly behind Harry's right ear. 

"You do, do you?" He whispers, finger still on its path back down Harry's leg.

"I'm gonna die." He whimpers. Louis is so mean. He is the meanest of the mean. 

"You're not gonna die, Harry." He laughs and he's still in Harry's ear, hot, sticky breath fanning across the line of his face. 

"If you keep that up I most certainly will." He says, feeling himself perk up to the feeling of Louis hand on the small of his back, right above his bum. And it takes Louis a moment to realize what Harry is talking about.

"Oh." He retracts his hand slower than Harry would have liked in the given situation. If they weren't in the fucking ocean surrounded by four-year-olds perhaps Harry would have had no problem with it. Might have even thrown Louis down in the water and jumped his bones right there. He only has so much self-control and Louis is pushing through all of it. 

He feels Louis get up and wade through the water to the front of the class. Harry was mortified. He actually sprouted a semi from just a simple touch while also being surrounded by toddlers. He's going to hell. Maybe he could just slowly lower himself underwater and never come up. He could live underwater with the mermaids. And then he'd never have to face Louis again. All in all, it's a win-win for Harry. 

"Alright guys, has everyone had enough for today? Yeah?" Louis shouts from his spot in the sand. The kids one by one grab their floaties and noodles and scamper their way up out of the water. Louis turns to look to the mums to make sure they're okay with him cutting today's lesson short to which he receives five thumbs up. 

"Okay, my little tiger sharks, come give Louis some love." And all of the kids run up and crowd around Louis, piling on for one massive group hug. Harry stays behind in the water trying to will himself down from the memory of soft fingertips, gentle brushes of lips at his ear, and hot breath, and downing himself was starting to sound better and better. 

He watches as Louis takes the kids to their parents and eventually, he deems himself  _ decent _ enough to join Louis back up on the beach. So he clambers to his feet and makes his way to the shore where Louis is sending the last little girl off with her mum.

"I'm afraid your lesson isn't quite over yet, Curly." He says grabbing Harry's noodle and tossing it up further on the beach. He links his fingers with Harry's and tugs him back toward the water, but this time they don't stay in the shallow surf. Louis only gets so far out into the chest deep water before Harry starts to panic.

"We're a bit deep don't you think?" He asks hoping he doesn't sound like too much of an idiot, but also very very aware of the fact that at any moment now, he could lose all abilities to be touching the ground. 

"Don't worry." Louis stops, water just under his collarbones, and turns to scoop Harry into his arms. "If you do happen to drown for whatever reason, I am CPR certified. Just so you know." He adds with a wink. He probably can sense Harry's anxiety as he tightens his grip on Louis' neck because Louis returns the favor and tightens his arms around Harry's waist.

It's not that he's scared of the water it's-yeah, no, he's scared of the water. Despite his over dramatic inner monologue whingeing on about drowning himself out of pure embarrassment, he doesn't actually want to die. He can feel his hands start to tremble as Louis reaches back and starts to pull Harry's arms from around his neck. His attempts are futile however because Harry just clings on all the tighter.

"Are you sure you're not trying to drown me?" Harry asks, face buried in Louis' neck. "Cause I feel like this could go either way." And remember what Harry said earlier about Louis possibly being a siren? Yeah, told you.

"I'm not gonna let you drown, you big baby. Now let go." This time he does let Louis unlink his fingers from behind his neck and bring them down into the water at his sides. It's like... He knows Louis won't let him drown, he does he just- you can drown in a teaspoon of water, did you know?

"You know, I don't really think that's a good idea. I'd rather not." Harry goes to wrap his arms around Louis again, but he's stopped mid air.

"It's alright, just let go." And he does. He gives Louis one last look of please, please don't let me drown before lowering his hands once more and leaning backward so he's facing the sky.

"See? You're floating. No drowning on my watch." He is floating and he can feel Louis' hands on him, which is comforting. He can feel where he's supporting his back and his neck in the water, helping to keep him afloat. He can feel himself suspended just below the surface of the water, the cool waves breaking around him and the breeze is like nothing he's ever felt once he closes his eyes and just lets himself be. It's not all that different from being blinded by Louis, really. 

He feels like all of the sun's rays penetrating the earth's atmosphere are beaming straight into him. He feels like he's taking a bath on the sun, like he's being engulfed in  _ liquid gold _ but it's so warm and so relaxing that he doesn't really mind the burning in his lungs, the burning in his head, the burning under his skin. Come to think of it, it's exactly like being in Louis' presence. 

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let go." Is what comes out, because he doesn't want Louis to let go. He wants to stay in Louis' arms, floating in the ocean forever. But-

"Five." Louis says pulling Harry out of his heat daze. 

"What?" He asks. Because...what?

"Four." 

"What are you-?"

"Three." Oh.

"Don't you dare."

"You'll be okay, trust me." And Louis starts to remove his hands, starts to take a few steps away from Harry. 

"Lou..." He whines.  _ Don't let me go, he wants to say. Never let me go. _

"Two."

"One."

And Louis' hands are gone. He still feels the heat, still feels the gold, but it's duller, less piercing. He's still floating, but it's not the same. Harry's eyes fly to Louis' searching for the wave that was pulled out from under him, the missing piece that will let him feel the gold refilling his lungs. 

Louis holds his gaze, stares right back at him, doesn't move. Neither of them moves a muscle. Even if Harry could move, he doesn't think he'd have it in him to break the moment, to break the gaze. Louis' eyes stare back at him and they are blue, blue, blue. Clear blue, clearer than the water they are in, but green too. Blue and Green, blue and green.

"What am I supposed to do...?" Harry asks, his gravely voice barely making any noise at all. He watches as Louis' eyes fill with something that will decidedly break the moment. 

"You're doing it, young grasshopper. If you can float, you can swim. And you didn't even need your floaties." He's not surprised. 

"Shut up." He laughs as he moves his arm to swat at Louis, completely forgetting the fact that he's floating. Louis has that effect on people. 

Unfortunately, just like being caught off guard by Louis, he feels himself start to sink. He doesn't have much time to fret, though because even with the resistance of the water against him, Louis is at his side in a second, pulling him back up and all of the sudden Harry is very aware of the slow drag of their bare chests against each other.

He folds his arms back around Louis' neck again, clinging onto his thin frame. He feels little pulses of light burn his skin at every point that is touching Louis, even underwater. He feels Louis take in each deep breath and let each one go. He feels Louis' hands glide across the small of his back. Harry's eyes slide up Louis' neck, follow the point of his jaw, the sweep of his cheekbone and finally meets his eyes.

"Hi."

He feels like he's drowning.

"I'm drowning."

And he's so close, closer than he's ever been. So close that the shallow breaths leaving Louis' mouth are warming his wet one. So close.

"You're fine." He hears Louis say and he almost misses it because he's come closer. He's impossibly close, yet far enough that their lips don't connect. Far enough that his body knows, is itching to move closer still, but makes no move to do so. So Louis does it for him. He feels the heat radiating off of Louis' glowing skin turn hotter and hotter until finally-

"Harry!" And then the heat is gone. 

Their heads snap toward the sound to see Gemma standing on the shore with her arms crossed over her chest and Harry can see her smug smile all the way from the water. He looks back at Louis, who looks equally as put off and groans, dropping his head into his shoulder. 

"Alright, guess it's time to get out, babe." Louis says. 

"Carry me?" 

So he does. He carries him out of the water, all the way up onto the sand and deposits him right in front of Gemma. 

"Delivery for a Miss Gemma Styles." Louis announces in a weird and very bad fake English accent. The both of them break out in laughter, but Gemma's arms are still crossed, face straight. 

"Who may I speak to about the condition of my package? There should be a fragile sticker on the side and it's positively sopping wet. Honestly, get me the head of your HR department." And Harry loves Gemma. He's still sitting on the ground where Louis and Gemma are arguing over the condition of the "package" and he can't hear what they're saying, but he loves that Gemma is playing along, is accepting Louis. He loves her a lot.

"Come on, H." Gemma says, reaching down to pick him up. 

"Bye. Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun." He turns to Louis, taking his hand.

"Even though I made you swim with four-year-olds and pool noodles?" Louis laughs and all the while Gemma just stands back behind them looking incredibly confused. 

"Even though you tried to drown me?" Harry counters, dropping Louis' hand and throwing his own up in the air dramatically. Louis reaches out and grabs both of his hands back.

"I didn- Did I let you drown?" And he's close again. He's not nearly as close as before, but you can only get so close to the sun before you start to feel the heat. Harry tries to keep himself in check.

Harry drops his head, cheeks heating up, smile widening. "...No."

"Okay." And there he is, so close, so warm. Louis' face tilts up, so close, and leaves the smallest brush of lips against Harry's skin, right on the corner of his mouth. He goes from warm, warm, warm to boiling, scalding, scorching. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, H?"

"What are we doing tomorrow?" He manages to get out somehow. His voice breaks, and he clears his throat, trying to control himself, but Louis is still close. He leans in again, and Harry thinks maybe Louis' is going to kiss him again, but he moves swiftly past his mouth, past his cheek and right up next to his ear.

"If you'd like, I'd like to take you on a date..." 

And Harry is pretty sure his heart stopped beating, he's not breathing. He hasn't imagined this whole thing. Louis actually wants to take him out. On a date. Tomorrow. Together. Louis likes him. 

"Okay." It's quiet, airy. It barely comes out and he's still not sure if he's breathing or not, but Louis' smile is unlike anything he's ever seen and he's just so lovely. 

"Great, tomorrow? Same time and place?"

"Okay." 

"Okay."

" _ Okay _ ," Gemma says grabbing his arm and pulling him after her. "Say bye, Harry."

He eats his entire dinner with the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

*

It's 11: 50 when Harry wakes up, light streaming through his window and seagulls squawking in his ear and it almost doesn't occur to him that he's supposed to be meeting Louis at noon for their date. They have a date.

Harry throws himself out of his bed, frantically searching for something to wear when Gemma walks in and leans herself against the door frame. 

"Why are you still here? I thought you had your date with the lifeguard today?" She looks at her watch. "In like, 7 minutes..."

"Gemma, could you please just help me? I don't know what to wear!" He turns around and yells at her. 

Eventually he makes it out of the house, still tugging his shirt down over his stomach as he flies down the stairs and toward the hut. He see's Louis standing with his back against the wood, breathtaking as always. 

"Oh hey, Curly!" Louis says as he spots Harry fumbling toward him, yawning and out of breath and just a downright mess. Good job, Harry. "Thought, you might have forgotten about me." He jokes, stepping in to bring Harry in for a hug. 

"No, hi." He says, wrapping his arms around Louis and sorting out his hair with a heavy sigh. "I'm here, hey, I made it. I'm here." Louis just laughs and shakes his head.

"Hi, little H." He smiles as he pulls away from Harry, eyeing him up and down. There's a sort of awkward pause, not exactly awkward, but it's a bit of an intense staring contest. Louis is standing right in front of him, just staring and Harry is staring back. 

Slowly, Louis inches forward to drop a single kiss onto Harry's cheek, just as he did the day before. Harry's breath hitches in his throat and he fumbles over his words.

"Right, okay. So are you ready? I promise I won't try and drown you today." Louis jokes, trying and sort of succeeding to change the subject. Banter, yes. Harry can do banter. 

"Yeah, yeah. Should I be worried, though? I left my good pool noodle back home." Louis laughs. Harry's nerves start to die down and the tense moment is decidedly broken. 

"No, we aren't going in the water today." Is all Louis says before he reaches his hand out to grab Harry's and lead him toward the pier. 

"Oh, wait." He stops them, turning to face Harry. "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

Louis ends up taking them to the  _ Surf Food Stand _ . It's a quaint little place, mostly tan, with tan chairs and tan umbrellas on top of the tan sand. It's only redeeming quality is the beautiful turquoise palm trees painted on the wall next to the window. Harry can appreciate the simplicity and uniformity of one single color off-set by one bright color. It's unique. 

And apparently, they have amazing food as well. Harry goes for the grilled chicken salad because it comes with sliced tomatoes and avocado on the side, which are his favorite, and he laughs for five minutes straight when Louis uses a fake English accent to order what they call  _ Fish N' Fries  _ because he "misses the motherland." He also won't take Harry's word when he tells him that that is actually not what fish and chips look like. 

Louis replies with "I think I'd know my own national dish, Hazza." still in his faux accent. 

After they finish their food, Louis takes his hand and leads him toward the pier. 

"Thank you for my salad." Harry says, still sipping on his mango smoothie from the food stand. Louis doesn't say anything, just squeezes his hand and smiles as they walk up to the pier. And it's not that Harry hadn't noticed before, because he has to walk past the pier to get to the beach house everyday, but seeing it up close is sort of crazy. 

It's beautiful, the pier. It has the same light blue as the lifeguard shack colored railings down the entire length and there are string lights draped from lamp post to lamp post.

"Wow it's beautiful." Harry says because even though it's only about two pm, the lights still manage to give off a lovely glow that hits Louis just right giving him a perfect halo. 

"The lights were supposed to come down after christmas, but I think it's pretty all year 'round." 

"Me too," Harry smiles. " It's lovely."

"Lovely? Wait until it gets dark."

The pier seems to go on forever, people come and go. One man even skids around him on a bicycle, which Harry is fairly certain you're not allowed to do. Louis only mutters  _ jackass _ and flips him off. Because honestly, where is he gonna go? The end of the pier is a giant circle with a building in the middle. There's no room for bikes. He is a jackass.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Louis brings him to a halt in front of a circular, white building that has that same blue trim around the top. Harry's starting to sense a pattern. He's distracted, however, by a life-size statue of the scariest shark he's ever seen in his life. It has no eyes and some missing teeth, clearly the workings of being outside 24/7. Harry is still clearly creeped out. 

"Ew." He says, taking a step closer to it to read the sign next to it that screams in big, bold, red letters:  _ Do Not Sit Or Climb On The Shark _ . Not a chance in hell.

"Ew? This here is Delilah." Louis throws a hand over his heart like he's offended on behalf of this homely looking thing. He gives it (her?) a pat on the head and clarifies. "I don't know if that's actually her name, but she's a pal."

Harry rolls his eyes because in front of him is the fittest boy he has ever seen on planet earth who also is a lifeguard and teaches little kids to swim, while also simultaneously naming inanimate objects. Fuck. 

"So, this is the Roundhouse." Louis says motioning to the white building in front of them. Harry looks up, and how he didn't notice the giant navy blue sign before, he'll never know. He'll blame it on Delilah.

"An aquarium!" Louis nods his head, smiling his cute Louis smile when they are interrupted by a chorus of  _ "Louis!" _

Harry watches as woman with dark brown hair, steps around the corner, opening her arms and pulls Louis into a big hug.

"Hello, Lou." She says, face squished up against his neck. When they let go, Louis reaches back down to relink his fingers with Harry's sending little pulses through his fingertips.

"Hey, Kar. This is Harry. Harry this is my aunt Karen. Just showing him around the beach, thought we'd stop in here."

"Oh, yes. Of course! It's very nice to meet you, Harry." Karen says, taking Harry's hand in her own and giving it a little squeeze.

"You as well, Ma'am."

Karen tells them she has 'business to attend to' and scurries off as Louis drags Harry along to the first tank. It's a large, round, open tank at about hip height filled with all different kinds of fish and stingrays swimming along. There is a handwritten sign above that says  _ 'Please do not touch, these fish get sick _ . _ ' _ so he thinks he better not. 

The next tank they come to is a hundred times brighter and more colorful than the last. Harry spots a blob of brilliant blue and orange dotted together with little specks of white along it's back. It moves slowly at the bottom of the tank and Harry lowers himself so he's face to face with the little creature.

"Woah, what is that?" He asks Louis, looking up from his spot on the ground. Louis crouches down next to him.

"That is called a Navanax. It's a type of sea slug." 

"He's very pretty for a slug. Hello, little one." Harry runs his finger along the glass, following the little navanax as he scampers across the floor of the tank.

"And this is Sammy." Louis tells him as they round the corner, pointing to a singing seahorse in its own tank. 

"Sammy the seahorse?" 

"Yes, Sammy the seahorse." Louis laughs. "Sammy here is actually a rescue. He has washed ashore because his snout was caught in a straw and he was having a hard time swimming."

"A straw? Poor Sammy."

"But you're alright now, aren't you Sampson?" And Louis shows him the rest of the tanks which end up being completely made up of rescued marine life. Louis shows him all the different kinds of starfish and flat fish and eels. He shows him the baby swell shark that is almost about ready to hatch in its pinkish red sack that you can see through and it's moving and it's mostly disgusting but also kind of beautiful.

Louis shows him a beautiful off white colored octopus, gracefully gliding through the water, popping the suction cups on his little arms. There are fake rocks and fake moss all along the floor and heat lamps everywhere and it's kind of amazing to think that Louis works here. 

Harry can tell already just how much he cares about the animals. He has a name for every single one. He knows all of the feeding times, even for the sharks. Louis just cares so much about everyone and everything. 

After they come back down from the second floor, and Louis says goodbye to literally every single occupant in California, they start to make their way back outside and down the pier. 

"It's already getting dark." Louis says. He's right. The sky isn't dark yet, but it's starting to turn blue and purple wrapped in pink and red. "We should probably be getting you back, right?" And Harry should feel as let down as he is. He's been with Louis all day but it's not enough. Harry thinks he would probably spend every second of every day with Louis if he could. Louis makes him feel good. 

"Oh, yeah. Gem's probably wondering where I am."

So they start to make the trek back down the pier hand in hand. The sky is getting darker and the breeze is getting stronger, blues and purples and pinks coming out to play, dancing across the sky and alluring against the lights strung along the lamp posts. 

Harry feels Louis still next to him, stopping dead in his tracks. Harry stops too and turns so he's right in front of Louis. 

"Oh, H-" He says and it's almost like the breeze stops floating through the air. It's almost like the briny air turns light and fluffy and sweet around them. Louis is looking at him with this looks he's only seen a few times before and it's quiet quiet quiet and he's almost afraid to answer.

"Yeah?"

"There's one more thing." And Louis is right there, right up close and he's gripping both sides of Harry's face. He's grabbing Harry and pulling him in for a kiss and Harry doesn't even have time to process what's happening before Louis lips are on him, smooth drag of Louis' mouth against his. Harry hears the waves crashing against the pier, roaring in his ears and drowning out everyone else walking by them. He feels Louis' hands on him, on his hips, on his back. He feels Louis all over. 

"You have fun?" Louis pulls back to look up at him and Harry suddenly isn't so sad about having to leave. He leans back in just because he can a drops a small peck to Louis' cheek.

"Lots."

*

Surfing, Louis actually thinks that Harry's going to get into the water with a surfboard and try to ride a wave. Honestly, who does he think Harry is? Although Harry's not really complaining because Louis is back in the skintight neoprene wetsuit and that is just good for everyone. 

"You're kidding, right? Are you actually trying to kill me?" He motions to the surfboard lying on the sand. Louis throws his head back in laughter, pulling Harry up onto the board placing his feet so they're spread apart. 

Louis walks back around the board so he's standing behind Harry, hands on his hips, swaying with him from side to side. 

"I'm not actually throwing you out into the water, just showing you a few balancing techniques."

Louis runs a hand up the back of Harry's t-shirt, and honestly how is he meant to balance on a board when Louis' hands are on him. 

"Louis." He whines because Louis is not fair. Louis could probably burp the alphabet and Harry would still find him incredibly fit. He hears Louis giggle behind him, feels Louis' hands gripping his waist and spinning him around to face him and all of the sudden they're on the ground. 

Louis tackles him into the sand, pinning his wrists above his head. Harry is letting out raspy chuckles underneath Louis who is kissing up the side of his face when their hips align and suddenly it's not very funny anymore. Harry's breath hitches in his throat, body stilling as he feels Louis' thickening dick pressed against his. Louis looks down at him almost like he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't move anymore, but he also doesn't get up. 

It feels like an eternity that he's staring up at Louis and he needs needs needs Louis to do something, needs to feel something, anything. He's aching and he's sure Louis is too. He doesn't mean to, but his hips buck forward, grinding up onto Louis who closes his eyes and even in the right state he's in Harry can tell Louis is trying to control himself. 

Louis slowly, but surely rocks his hips down to meets Harry's and the sweet, slow drag of Louis' wetsuit against his swim shorts is almost unbearable, but then it's gone. Louis is lifting himself up off of harry and rolling over next to him. 

"Sorry." He says, grabbing Harry's hand. "I just feel like if we're gonna do this, I'd rather it not be in front of everyone with the guarantee that I'll wake up tomorrow with sand up my ass."

Harry laughs and snuggles right up into Louis' chest. He can wait.

*

As it turns out, his mum and dad do notice that he's been absent from the family festivities, so on Tuesday he's roped into what Gemma calls ' _ family bonding time _ ' and Harry calls torture. Not to say he doesn't love his family and spending time with them, but instead of sitting in the sun while the rest of them read, he could be out with Louis right now. He could be  _ making _ out with Louis right now. 

Instead, he gets to sit in the blazing heat and do nothing. So much fun. 

Eventually though, he spots Louis emerging from the lifeguard shack and he's up in a flash. 

"Hey, I'm gonna go get an ice lolly. Be right back." He says, brushing the sand off of his legs. Gemma stands up after him.

"Oh, I'll come with. I've been dying for an ice lolly."

"No, Gem!" He says it a bit to quickly, looking from Gemma to Louis and back again. She follows his line of sight and he can practically feel the smirk that's starting to form on her face. "Don't get up, Gemma. I'll bring one back for you."

"Oh, no. I'm so coming, baby bro." She laughs with a pat to his back, walking past him toward Louis.

" _ I'm not... _ "

Louis is standing next to the shack, completely decked out in his lifeguard kit, and it's not fair. Louis should not be allowed to wear  _ teeny tiny _ red shorts like that on a beach full of children...and Harry. It's just not fair. Especially when he can't do anything about it. 

As soon as they are out of their parents line of sight, Harry bolts for the shack. Louis welcomes him with open arms, smile wide and they crash back against the wall with the sheer force of it. Louis pulls his face out of Harry's neck to drop a sweet kiss to the center of Harry's lips. 

"Wow, so I assume things have changed since I saw you last, Louis." And honestly, she didn't have to come, she really didn't. 

"Nice to see you again, Gemma. Always a pleasure." Louis says politely, only really glancing at her a few times but otherwise keeping all of his attention on Harry, hands at his waist and lips on his cheek. Harry likes that very much. 

"I'll meet you back over there in a bit, Gem." Harry suggests as Louis pulls him into his side, arm slung across his waist and hand wrapping around to give him a little pinch on the side. And honestly, how could you stay mad at your stupid sister pressed up against the bare skin of Louis' chest who is hot hot hot from the sun and smells like coconuts? 

"Fine, but don't do anything I wouldn't do." She huffs and stomps away. Harry only burrows his face into Louis' chest, breathing him in before he has to go back and watch everyone read again.

"What are you doing tomorrow? Are you busy?" Louis asks him, turning Harry around so he's facing him.

"No, I don't think so. Today is family bonding day, so I should be free tomorrow. Why what did you have in mind?"

"Well,-" Louis starts as he grabs both of Harry's shoulders and guides him back against the wall. "I was thinking you, me, and a boat. Tomorrow is the fourth so there will be fireworks celebrating my independence from your oppressive queen." Harry decidedly brakes the heat of the moment with a loud chortle right into Louis' face.

"I will ignore that comment, because it was actually my king at that point, but good try."

"Whatever," Louis waves him off. "So do you wanna come?"

"Yes, I would very much like to  _ come _ ." He means it both literally and figuratively, but he figures whispering it right into Louis' ear and then walking right past him and back to his family like nothing happened will give Louis some sort of idea as to what he means.

*

The Fourth of July is a lot weirder than Harry had ever heard or imagined. Everyone is dressed in red, white and blue, which he would like to remind everyone were England's colors first, and screaming "Happy Fourth of July!" at every stranger they meet. 

Louis, however does not do this. He's dressed in a simple blue polo and red shorts which Harry guesses is festive enough. He tells him as much to which Louis' reply is "Well, I dont see you with a picture of your beloved queen tattooed on your face, now do I Harold?" Harry is getting into the car with a psychopath.

Louis ends up driving him a little under thirty minutes north without telling him exactly where they're headed until actually get there. 

"Well, H, welcome to Marina Del Rey." Louis says when they are finally out of the car and headed for the docks. He has a basket full of food for their picnic which Harry had teased him about in the car.

"Going full romantic on me are you?" Harry had teased him. "Gonna proper wine and dine me on a boat?"

And Louis had replied "Hush, you." As he smirked at him from the drivers side. "I will turn this car around, Harry. I'll do it." And that had been the end of that conversation.

"Oh gosh, I love her music." Harry giggles next to louis as he grabs onto his hand giving it a little swing.

"Shut up, you are such a weirdo."

As it turns out, Louis has a really nice boat. It's not a ginormous yacht in anyway, but it's very nice and pretty roomy and sea captain Louis is just as hot as he'd imagined it'd be. 

It's just a little before five when they get things up and running. Louis lets Harry help him with uncovering the boat, checking the engine and untying it from the dock and Harry tries to pay attention to Louis when he attempts to explain all of the confusing dials and buttons and levers and gauges to him, but in the end, Louis just gets frustrated tells him to have a seat and not to worry about it, which Harry only finds more attractive. 

Being on a boat is one of the best feelings Harry has ever experienced. It feels sort of like flying, sort of like you're going so fast that no one can even try to touch you because if they even try, they'll literally get caught in your wake. Kind of like how he feels whenever he's with Louis. 

Louis lets him walk through the opening in the cockpit and crawl onto the cushioned bow. That way he could see Louis and Louis could see him. The front of the boat is actually Harry's favorite part of the boat. It's made up of nothing but soft, pillowy white cushions to make up a sort of bed area that is so unbelievably comfortable, he feels like he could fall asleep even with the wind blowing at top speeds.

Eventually, Louis finds a nice quiet spot for them to stop and set up. So Harry gets up from his cushion bed to walk back and help Louis bring the picnic basket and the blankets that were stored underneath the boat back up to the front. 

Louis has already made it up to the bow when Harry starts to make his way up as well, tripping over the blankets in his hands. He tries to hoist them up over his shoulder so his feet don't betray him, but the fabric gets caught on the windshield as he tries to clear it and he goes toppling down, right on top of Louis. 

Louis reaches out his hands to catch him and keep him from falling, pulling him down against his chest, Harry's knees landing on either side of Louis' hips.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this, H." Louis laughs into Harry's neck, leaving tiny pecks along the skin he can reach. He keeps his hands firm on Harry waist only reaching around to poke at his sides causing him to squeal and squirm and it's funny until it's not. 

It's funny until Louis runs his fingers down Harry's side and his hips buck down, melting into Louis' and suddenly it's not so funny anymore. They both stop laughing and Louis' hips come to a complete halt, stopping any sort of movement between them at all. But their groins are still aligned, still touching and Harry can feel every inch of Louis' body pressed against his, can feel Louis hardening underneath him. 

There's a look in Louis' eyes that Harry's only seen a few times before, but it's definitely recognizable and Harry lives to be the reason behind that look. It's the same look he'd seen in the water and then same look he'd seen in the sand and where Louis had laughed and pushed him off before, he slides his hands up the sides of Harry's thighs. They glide past his bum and flatten against the small of his back and Harry can't help it. He surges forward to connect his lips with Louis'. 

He feels him everywhere and everywhere he feels the fire. He feels Louis' mouth pressing up against his, tongues sliding together wet and warm and wonderful. He feels Louis' hands leaving his back, running  _ down down down _ to grip his bum through his shorts, squeezing and guiding his hips back and forth, starting off slow, meeting him in the middle. 

He feels Louis' cock rubbing up against his own, hips bucking involuntarily and he can't even try to contain the small whimper that he lets out. He feels Louis pull his mouth away, trying to focus his vision and all he sees is  _ blue blue blue _ . Dark blue eyes blazing up at him. He doesn't even realize that Louis pulls himself out from underneath him and flips them over until he's on his back, Louis' lips reconnecting themselves to his neck. 

And the friction is amazing, one of the best things he's ever felt. He feels his stomach fill with heat, like he's drinking  _ liquid gold _ and he see's the light behind his eyelids, but its not white. It's a dark, burning red, pulsing, radiating with heat and he just feels so  _ good _ .

He only feels himself getting tighter and tighter, Louis grinding down faster and faster, whispering incoherent sentences in his ear that he just couldn't make out even if he tried. 

"I can't- Lou I'm gonna-" Louis runs a hand through his hair, pushing a few stray curls out of his face.

"Yeah, yeah, go 'head." He mumbles against Harry's skin as their hips start to stutter against each other. It's a miracle Harry even lasted this long to be honest. 

Finally he feels himself release, coming in his pants like a thirteen year old boy. Louis follows shortly after, never slowing the endless stream of kisses across his cheeks and his nose and along his neck. Even with the sticky mess in his shorts, he pulls Louis down closer. 

Louis rests his head against Harry's, their noses brushing and all Harry can see is  _ blue blue blue.  _ It's a stark contrast between the pink and yellow and orange of the sunset behind them. 

" _ My baby lives in shades of blue. Blue eyes and jazz and attitude. He lives in California, too. _ " Harry whispers right up against Louis' ear, giving it a little nip with his teeth. He thought it was only appropriate since they were in her marina after all.

"If only I drove a Chevy Malibu." Louis snorts. He's actually a nut.

"You're a nut." Harry tells him. 

"Nutty for you." Louis counters as he drops a quick peck to the tip of Harry's nose.

"Heeeey," He draws out, playing offended. "I thought the puns were banned." He laughs, hitting Louis' arm. Louis had drawn the line a few days ago when Harry had asked him: 

' _ Hey, what do you call a pod full of musical whales?' _

_ 'I'm sure you're gonna tell me, Harry. What do you call them?' He'd laughed. _

_ 'An Orca-stra. Get it, Lou? Cause Orca's?' _

He'd gotten the joke, but Harry had been banned from using anymore nautical puns. Apparently that did not apply to Louis.

"I guess you're rubbing off on me." Was Louis' reply. 

"Oh my  _ god _ ."

*

That night the fireworks were bigger and brighter and louder than Harry'd ever seen them. Huge bursts or red, white and blue sparkles dancing in the air with Louis curled into his side was the most perfect way to spend the Fourth. Even with Louis every so often starting up a round of 'God Save Our Queen.'

He could almost forget that he only had just a little over a week left. Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> I've split this up into two chapters. Please let me know what you think so far! You can always find me on tumblr [here!](http://baby-larry-love.tumblr.com) I'd really love to hear from you! xxx


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